“THE Magus?” Zarin exclaimed. “Is that really you? What’s going on? Did I break a law?”
The Magus, highest authority of The Tavern, looked to his left to the bartender. The staff member said, “Sir Zarin, it has come to our attention that you are a performer of considerable skill and determination. It has also come to our attention that business hasn’t been fair to you lately. We have a proposition to make to you. We would like to hire your services and have you work here at The Tavern.”
Silence….
The Magus turned his head back to observe the Entertainer while the bartender went about his work drying glasses and arranging them amongst the bottles.
Did Zarin hear it right? They wanted him to work for them? They, the most extraordinary tavern in the Multiverse, wanted to hire him, him, of all people? Are you kidding me?
“What’s the catch?” Zarin said, knowing with dread that there had to be one.
“The catch,” said the bartender, “is there isn’t one. You’ll work as a commissioned staff member with all benefits inclusive of bread and board. You’ll get to travel the Multiverse with us, explore a variety of worlds, and expand your craft to levels you never thought possible. You’ll become part of the family, so to speak.”
“Is this real? This isn’t some sort of dream or joke, is it?”
“As real as it could ever be.”
* * *
Life had never been so good to the man. Well, maybe it had, but he didn’t feel like it did. Working at The Planeswalking Tavern was the zenith of his career, and as he wiped the sweat from his brow tonight and bowed deeply to the applause of the audience, he knew he had netted a big fish to fry.
He retired to his accommodation that night filled with adrenalin and glee. Tired as he was, his body refused to stop working, refusing to stop at all despite his exhaustion. This, he thought, was the life.
It was close to midnight, but there was one thing he needed to do before he packed up. He had to visit the bar.
The male bartender was still there, doing what he did best. It was a bit crowded given that tonight’s performance was a full-house so it took some time before Zarin managed to find a place at the bar to sit down. He smiled at the bartender and the bartender nodded.
“The usual, please.”
The bartender smiled coolly. “Coming right up.”
Without his makeup and costumes on, Zarin wasn’t surprised that no one noticed him for who he was. Part of him smiled at the anonymity given to him, this reprieve from such a hectic life. The bartender knew what went through his head and served the order immediately: cookies and ice-cold milk.
The question was eventually spoken, and Zarin put it this way, “So you’re close with the Magus?”
“Close? We’re part of his family, just like you. Strawberries with that?”
“Oh. Of course, but tell me honestly, it wasn’t out of sympathy, was it? I was hired because of my work, wasn’t it?”
“Could there have been any other reason?”
“You tell me.”
“Eat up, sir. The milk will get warm.”
>End of story.
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